June 29th, 2011

Winged Circle

Twins Were Born This Night Of A Circle, The Day You Died, So Did A Wizard

June 22nd, 2011

Dripping Widow

This Night Of A Circle, This Day You Died, So Did A Dripping Widow

June 20th, 2011

Liar SuperMan

A Liar Swan Was Born This Night Of A Circle, The Day You Died, So Did A Swan SuperMan

June 17th, 2011

Taste In A Fold

Ride On A Bolivar Vessel

I parked my chariot and walked to the ramp. I wanted to take this vessel all the way one way and then all the back, right back to where I started, I had no idea how long this journey would take. Tonight, this night, details like that, well, they just didn’t matter. So this is exactly what I did. It was already late, already dark when I arrived. Everyone else, almost everyone else, was in a vehicle. I was almost the only one on foot.

Tonight, this way out, there were five others also on foot. A woman with her new child, no father in sight. Another woman with her new child, no father in sight, either. And a lone man, a typical good natured Texas young man. I talked to these women, I asked for their permission to record what they look liked to me this night. They said, “Yes.” I talked to this lone man, too. He was here as well because he had no where else better to be in this, his state, of Texas, after a long journey away. He had been farther north than I had, a farther true north where it was his task to rebuild that line through a place. Now, he was here, on this vessel, looking for some new thing, too.

As he and I parted ways, I saw he had a symbol of death scribed forever where his spine connects to his brain and where he himself cannot directly see it, even if he were to try. So I asked him, can I record it, he said, “Yes.” I pointed my machine right at it and my machine burst its fake lightning all over it. Because of this false lightning, I can, I will, see it forever even when I look directly at it. Maybe this idea of death he cannot see or want to see, when he looks for it, like a woman I once saw couldn’t see the lightning when she tried.

press play

So I made more bursts of fake lightning on this way out. Whenever it felt like I should. Then I did it again, on the way back. Does this fake lightning I made here this night love me or does this real lightning I cannot see in the black sky up there this night hate me? I cannot tell fake lightning of mine from the real lightning anymore. This vessel I was now on, was once where I undoubtedly had seen a hate strike me when I wasn’t looking for it. This is a fact, in a removed link of taste and memory I once saw online and heard is know hidden, in a place in which I was directed to look I no longer care to. In this yet another love letter of mine rewritten for another, I was put here, right here, on these black and yellow arrows now under my feet after a year of begging to be left out, to be left out of the stories of this vessel. Yet here I was again placed on all the days and all the ways I should not have been. If what I saw, online, had been a true love, why was this story told with me, in it, now? Was it for me? Was it to hurt me even more? Yes. Told this way, that day, undoubtedly. So I wanted to know what it felt like here, now I know it’s a place I never will, feel, any, real, thing I can trust or believe.

This was the vessel where I had been shown the greatest hate I have ever known.

I made my way to a private place on the outside of this vessel where no one could see me. I wanted to be alone and I put my machine away. I stepped up really close to the steel of this vessel. I rested my face against the steel of this vessel. I put my face inside a crack in this vessel. I stuck my tongue out, into this crack of this vessel. This vessel did not taste like what my memory can. This vessel did not taste sweet.

This vessel tasted like no other, too.

press play

This vessel is not owned by you, this vessel is not owned by me.

This vessel is owned, made of, a consortium, meaning more than two. Something I didn’t know, when I boarded.

June 14th, 2011

Donald (5 Letters) Man

YACKXYAFFX Split In 2 | 5 Letters of Responsibility In The Name Of This Named Man
[$6.9 Billion (or) Almost $7,000,000,000.00]

This man has a faith in something he cannot see but believes in more than I can believe in what I can.

June 13th, 2011

911 Shapes Of Things

I stepped outside to feel the air, I had been inside too long. There were shadows on the ground this night that were not usually there. So I looked up to find their source. There it is was again, that shape in the sky that only shows its real light in the dark. So I went inside and got my machine and returned to outside. I stared at that source through my machine. I stood on the curb across the street and stared at that shape through it, again, like I have done, before. Then I heard it. “Get off my property or I’ll call the police.” I looked down at my feet, I was the curb, the public curb. I looked towards the source of this noise. There stood a half naked mad woman. I looked back up at that shape through my machine. Then I heard it again, “Get off my property or I’ll call the police!” she screamed, walking closer. I could see through her top, I could see the shapes of her, too. I did not want to nor do I understand why she wanted to show me.

I just stood there, I was not on her property nor had I broken any law. The half naked mad woman got closer and screamed the same thing, louder. So I turned towards the half naked mad showing me things I was not looking to see woman and said, “I am not on your property. I have not broken a law. My name is Jonathan Saunders (my whole real name) and I live across the street. (I said my real address). If you want to call the police, their number is 911. (The real number for the police). This conversation is over.” I went back to looking through my machine and recording the shape source in the sky. The half naked mad woman kept getting closer and screaming louder. I think maybe she thought the louder she screamed or closer she got or the easier she made it to see her nakedness, the more she thought she was correct, yet no matter how loud she screamed it didn’t mean I broke a law. Half naked mad screaming woman got closer and threatened louder. I started laughing and reached for my phone, it was time to call the police on her. I stopped laughing when I realized my phone was on my desk, inside.

I heard a man’s voice now. So I looked past half naked screaming mad woman and there on the porch was a half naked screaming at her man. I don’t know why he wanted me to see him almost naked either. “Leave him alone, just call the police.” Half naked screaming mad woman ignored screaming at her half naked man and kept screaming at me. I started laughing again. “Woman, you better listen to me!” said half naked screaming man, “If you ain’t going to listen to me woman, [unintelligible threat], I’ll call the police.” Half naked screaming at her man never addressed me directly, I don’t know why. I looked back at the shape source in that sky through my machine. Half naked screaming mad woman was still screaming at me as I stood in the middle of the street now, having stepped away from her as she continued her threats and ever stepping closer. I was not going to let her and her half naked madness hurt me.

Half naked screaming mad woman was still screaming at me and half naked screaming at her man was still screaming at her. I turned towards half naked screaming mad woman, now standing too close to me and said once again, “This conversation is over.” This time, I said it louder. It seemed loud must have been her language because she stopped screaming for a moment and looked at me, it must have finally sank in. Half naked screaming mad woman now quietly said, “Jonathan, how is your grandmother?”

– – –

The next day inside where I stay, I knocked over a box and things spilled out. I picked up one of these things and held it up to circular fake light source above me for my machine to record. This thing looked just like what I had made a few hours ago only this thing I made a night not last night, but a night 22 years ago, 22 years ago + only a few days. That night 22 years ago had been the same. I saw the day circle light source vanish through trees in one direction and the other direction, I saw the night circle light source rise through trees, too. The air outside had been warm that day also and that night 22 years ago, also staring at that shape in the sky that only shows its real light in the dark, staring at it through my machine, the air had turned just as cool as last night. I can still feel that same breeze, blowing.

June 10th, 2011

Honor Harry

Along The Road Of The Only Texas Man Who Stood Alone In 1922

June 8th, 2011

Stomach Mesh Smoke

I saw the smoke coming, there was no way to drive around it, it was too late, I had to go through.

Not long before this, I had waited in my usual circle to catch a loved one falling from the sky. Now, I was alone going to where I stay as I had no where to else to go. I saw the smoke on the horizon and all the lights revolving in their circles in the dark, too. The men with guns who I learned this same day, sometimes hate me and you for our machines, would not let me stop, not let me turn around, I had to go through. So I put the windows down, let the smoke blow from one opening in my chariot across to the other and I took a deep breath in. It smelled like a home I had not known or smelled in almost 10 years. So I pulled over. I walked to far away where I could still not see any source, just smoke over the mesh of grass. I took another breath. Yes, this smell was Fall 2001 New York City smell.

Only differently different the same.

I couldn’t see anything from where I was. Others were spreading up the bank, the berm overlooking the other berm. All those revolving lights, all those men of paid help down there I couldn’t see, I didn’t want to see. The smoke was slowly leaving it’s source. The burning was ending. I couldn’t hear anything. No engines, no sirens, no radios. Just the slow of traffic, crawling by. Just the wind, crawling by, too. I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know who said it, I cannot confirm it and I do not want to, but it seemed said from down there, where I couldn’t see or want to see. “We have had a fatality here.” When the smoke cleared, I saw a tree where I could not, before. It was 1:30:09am CST and 2:30:09am EST – 8 June 2011.

– – –

Later this tonight, I put chemicals in my body so I could sleep and then I waited for their victory over me. I did this as someone specific I love, somewhere, specific, this day, maybe right now, is having chemicals put in their body to put them to sleep, too. Only they were/are/going to sleep so they will not feel the pain when they lay down, on a table, to put be cut open, to be repaired with a mesh – Sometime 8 June 2011.

I also just learned that someone specific I love, loved one birthed a man, at 2:24am EST – 8 June 2011.

Today, right now or for all I know, much longer, my brain is victory over chemicals.

I will not lie down, till you wake up.

While I Guess You Were Sleeping

8 June 2011

learned later –

“Elizabeth, 22, was pronounced dead at the scene… just after 1 a.m.

A passer-by pulled the woman out of the burning vehicle, but she succumbed to her injuries, police said.”

known before –

If I had been born a woman, my name would have been Elizabeth.

June 4th, 2011

Letter From My Blood

I watched a film about a man chasing an endless wind named after a machine that tries to catch it, too. In his pursuit, there was a woman among several, yet this one, she would before the end of him maybe mean the most.

She had told him a yes.

I had heard of this woman before. I didn’t know she was to be in his pursuit until he was shared after he and all of him was gone. Yes, that kind of gone. I was allowed to see this all he was, this was a gift, his and her gift, for me and for you should you find it, too.

This woman was to be up the road from where I stay, telling a story while making new ones. I wanted to go, I wanted to hear, more. I got in my chariot and started up the road only to quickly turn around. I didn’t want to have the same machine all that went to listen to her did. So I returned to where I stay, retrieved a different machine and got back on the road. I had decided that if the moment presented itself, I wanted to have a portrait of her, too. Her, standing alone, the wind in her hair. Not just because this man’s wind was once in her’s, but because of what she makes, too.

I drove 90 miles, entered a restaurant to relieve some pressure and while doing so, noticed I had a roach on my chest crawling upwards towards my face. Shortly later, I arrived at the goal, early. So I sat alone far away and watching. I approached the man a different man I know calls the pope. As I started to introduce myself, the pope shrugged it off. The pope said he would know that face, my face, under any light or color. The pope told me he watches me. I said, “You must be that one.” To which he replied, “Just because no one is talking out loud, don’t think no one is looking.” I handed the pope the best of me bound in many pages and started to leave. This pope, told me to stop and first endorse these pages of me as my best. We had no scribe so one was found. I thanked him for all he shares, too.

I saw who I came to see only from afar. When I first saw her, it was like I already had. I saw the wind blow her hair with my own eyes before the sun went down this day. I sat in the dark later and listened to her tell stories, too. I decided this was enough. I made nothing, I asked her nothing and I did not meet her. I was ready to return. There were all the reasons in the world to tell her a thank you, but I no longer felt I had to.

I then drove 60 miles towards backwards. I stopped for nourishment. I sat alone in an empty restaurant and when I looked down into my ketchup, there was a fly, trapped in it.

All 13 May 2011 – At The Start Of Others – Texas

June 1st, 2011

I Am Target®

I needed white pantyhose, I thought they would reflect more light. So I went to Target®.

I went to the hose section carrying my empty red basket. I started looking at all the different kinds up and down the isle and realized I had never bought pantyhose before. I remember however that once upon a time they were sold in what looked like Easter eggs and I missed that. I kept looking.

After a few moments of not finding white, I noticed a male Target® security guard coming towards me, dressed head to toe in black. Black cargo pants, black short sleeve button down with pockets on the chest, a sewn on badge of some sort in the shape of a shield, glasses, big black shoes, black hair and some sort of artfully sculpted facial hair. At this same moment from the other direction I noticed a female Target® employee coming towards me, khaki pants, red shirt, I got the impression this was her section, this pantyhose section.

I got uncomfortable. I thought they were coming to talk to me and I froze and stared down at my empty red basket. Instead, they both walked right by me and went to the dressing room area just behind me out of my sight.

I hear a knock knock knock.

“Sir, are you alright?” Said the male Target® security guard.

Silence.

“Sir, are you alright?” Said the male Target® security guard. This time, much louder.

I hear a male voice,

“Um. Oh. Yes. Sir. I am okay. I am sorry, I was on the phone.”
(I had heard nothing).

“We’ve had some complaints.” Said the male Target® security guard.

Male voice,

“Oh. Okay. I’ll go.”

I stopped staring down at my empty red basket and went back to looking for what I came for, I still couldn’t find white hose. I turned and went to look on the end of the aisle display. Just as I did this, I noticed a red cart coming right at me, fast. I jumped to the side quickly to get out of its path. All I could see was red cart, high heels and blond hair barreling directly at me. At the last moment before impact, the cart swerved and went right by. As I looked I saw it was actually a man pushing this cart. Short acid wash mini-skirt high above the knee, nondescript button down subtle top buttoned almost all the way up and two strong muscular fine looking legs that didn’t seem to quit until falling into two high heels. On top, on top was a small tightly fitting wig of false blond hair with bangs hiding two eyes, both looking straight down, right down at the floor.

I went back to looking for what I came for, I still couldn’t find white hose.

I decide it is time for me to leave the hose section. I go off to the grocery section and I find chocolate pudding. I suddenly desired it after not wanting any in a very long time. I put the chocolate pudding in my empty red basket and this bothered me, this is not why I came to Target®, I did not come here for chocolate pudding. So I went back to the hose section and decided to just ask for help.

I saw a different female Target® employee sitting at a computer at a counter by the dressing rooms and hose section. I could only see her from the neck up, but this seemed like maybe it could be her section too. She seemed much younger than I am and I when I first said, “Excuse me?” She also seemed friendly. She had dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, was also wearing khaki pants and also wearing a red shirt. A very tight red shirt. This red shirt was so tight on her chest, one could see the outline and every seam of her bra underneath it and through it. This red shirt was very tight.

In my following visits to this Target® since that night and since I have now told you, I have made four photographs there. In the photograph I made of myself in the monitor, I didn’t know it when I took it, but the woman coming at me through those doors, She Hearts NY. I know this as I could see this written in black with a heart of red, right there on her white shirt.